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goals, God, Life Talk, seasons

Getting By

Last week was a rough week.

Monday, we learned that our friends’ unborn daughter has been diagnosed with open spina bifida with a probability of added complications.

Thursday night, we got the shocking and heartbreaking news that an old friend of mine died unexpectedly. She was in her late twenties.

In between, I worked on the sewing project from hell, cleared out two clogged drains in one day, and ignored my writing.

I spent a lot of time with my head buried in books, trying to find some relief in fiction. I read through close to a dozen novels in one week. I’m honestly seriously embarrassed and ashamed by that confession.

We adjusted fairly smoothly and quickly to this new life here, a seminary family, and I think I forgot that it’s still hard, and that there’s probably a good reason for why I feel tired all the time.

The good thing – the grace learned from seven years of waiting for seminary – is that we as a family have finally learned to stop living as though life is going to start sometime in the future, when everything has settled down and things are calm and smooth, and instead to be in the here and now, experiencing life as it happens. It may be messy and exhausting and frustrating at times, and I may still miss out on a lot of it because boy do I not function well without sleep, but at least we’re in it, not on the outskirts waiting.

Joy turns six tomorrow. Six. Five seemed ridiculously older than four, and six even more so than five. And in the midst of everything else we’ve got happening, we carved out time this weekend to go out for a celebratory breakfast, and then take a hike through the woods. Tomorrow she gets her presents and cake (we like to stretch birthdays out as long as possible around here). A few moments of calm and rejoicing amidst the storms around us.

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It’s good. We’re good.

(also, Sunday night right before bed Joy came proudly out of her bedroom to read me a story she wrote and illustrated herself titled “Kristen and the Dragon,” and you guys, I was planning on teaching things like story structure etc later on this year but but she instinctively gave it a beginning, middle, and end, and I was so proud I almost cried when she read it to me. THAT’S MY GIRL.)

God, Life Talk

Two Years

October 24. It’s been two years. Will I keep sharing this tribute every year on my blog on this date?

Honestly, I have no idea. But right now, this year, it is on my heart to do so.

And so I will.

She went out accompanied by a blaze of northern lights, some of the most brilliant seen around here in ages. Heaven welcoming a gallant soul home with fanfare.

Even after her breathing had slowed drastically, her heart remained strong until the end. We always knew her heart was bigger and stronger than most.

Her humor was one of the last things to go when the Alzheimer’s took over. Even when she was in the nursing home and couldn’t even recognize Grandpa, she would try to tease the nurses and aids. They all loved her.

They were married for sixty years. Two days before she finally died, I sat and watched him hold her hand as he told us the only reason he underwent chemo and fought so hard for life through the blood clots last year was so that he could take care of her, make sure her ending was peaceful and dignified, so that he could take care of her to the end. None of his kids could speak at that point, so I managed to choke out that he had done a wonderful job of it. They were an example to us all.

Of eight kids, six managed to make it home to say goodbye, only the one in Australia and the one in Arizona not able to get back. Fully half of the grandkids were able to come. No one fought, no one argued, no one tried to make things difficult for anyone else. Everyone acted as selflessly as human beings can act. Another testimony to the love and respect everyone had for her.

The hospital nurses teared up when their weekend shift ended, knowing they wouldn’t see her again alive.

There was as much laughter as tears around her bedside, as stories were shared and memories were dredged up and old jokes revived. Her fifteen-year-old grandson played his guitar, everyone sang, and her last days were filled with the music and laughter she loved so well.

She has been gone for a long time. Twelve years ago was when she was finally diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, at that point too far advanced to do anything but watch and pray as it slowly disintegrated the woman we all knew. The pneumonia that took her tonight was a release from that living death (twelve years is phenomenally long for Alzheimer’s sufferers – most don’t live more than five years), and our tears were as much joy for her as sorrow.

She is whole again now. She is free. She is rejoicing and laughing with her Lord.

It hurts, still, but this is a clean hurt, one that will heal. The pain of the Alzheimer’s never went away; it would lie dormant for a time, but it was always there lurking in the background. This – already there is a peace growing from the sorrow.

We will miss her. We have missed her for years. But her legacy – the love, the laughter, the strength and faith and joy – she passed that on, not only to her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, but to all who knew her. I am proud to call myself her granddaughter, and you can be sure my girls will grow up knowing about what an amazing woman their great-grandmother was.

Rest in Peace? Maybe. Personally, I suspect she is singing and dancing right now.

And laughing.

I am at peace today. That “clean hurt” I spoke of then, that I knew would heal? It’s healed. I miss her, yes. But I don’t flinch every time somebody mentions the word “grandma” anymore.

The sun is shining through the leaves this morning, scattering bits of gold and red across my window. I woke up early enough to get some writing in first thing this morning. Last night I finished Joy’s birthday skirt, and will start on the matching top today.

It’s a good day. It really is.

favorites, Life Talk, philosophy, seasons

Autumn Glories

I love this season. When I was younger, I loved winter (skating, sledding, skiing, hot cocoa and cozy sweaters) and summer (swimming, berry-picking, berry-eating, sunny day dreaming) the best. The older I get, the more I appreciate the moderate seasons. I’m not even going to try to psycho-analyze that – it doesn’t take a genius!

I do find myself craving spring after just a little bit of winter now, and craving autumn a short way into summer. I miss the light more than anything in winter, but I don’t handle the extreme heat of summer well. AT ALL.

This autumn has been a little bit warmer than my ideal. BUT it’s still been glorious.

Outside the local library
Outside the local library

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Enjoying a weekend hike to finish up Carl's Reading Week
Enjoying a weekend hike to finish up Carl’s Reading Week
I wish I could have captured the sun-reflecting-on-water-reflecting-off-leaves in this picture.
I wish I could have captured the sun-reflecting-on-water-reflecting-off-leaves in this picture.

See?

Glorious.

What’s your favorite season?

characters, fiction, influences, writing

Getting My Groove On

Not exactly like this. Less leather pants, for one thing.

But I am slowly starting to get back into the groove of writing Wings of Song. It’s been tricky to switch from fantasy to everyday life stories, especially when my previous fantasy was so rooted in the real world. I kind of want to have dryads peeking out from around every corner and fauns popping in for tea with my ten-year-old protagonist. Which would be a lovely story! Just not this one that I’m telling right now.

It’s been tricky shifting my writing style again, too. Wings of Song is written in a very different style from Magic Most Deadly. I liken the type of story it is to LM Montgomery and Maud Hart Lovelace, Susan Coolidge and Miss Read. But it is really, really hard to write a story in that style without turning it treacly or preachy or just plain dull. All those writers? Geniuses. Me? Juuuust starting to really spread my writing wings and fly.

So it’s been hard, but it’s coming. My one character most given to pretentiousness and sententiousness I have made fully aware of his tendencies, and have given him a younger brother always cheerfully ready to wallop him when necessary to keep him from being a prig. I am stashing any fantasy ideas in a different notebook, ready to use in a different story in the future, possibly, but not interfering with this one. I’m trying to read more old-fashioned, “everyday” fiction to get a better feel for writing hopeful, fun stories without them turning soppy.

Above all, I’m just writing.

And in the end, that’s the important part.

(And I’m occasionally watching Kurt Browning in leather pants.)

1920s, Books, fiction, goals, philosophy, publishing, seasons, writing

Things Learned

Important news out of the way first:

Magic Most Deadly is now available through Nook, and the paperback version is available through Amazon. iTunes has proven … challenging, so I’m still working on that.

The Goodreads giveaway is still going – it’s open until the 10th, so go enter if you haven’t done so yet!

If anyone would like an autographed bookplate for Magic Most Deadly, just send me an email with your name and address, and I’ll send one to you, free of charge. If you want to send me your actual physical copy of the book to autograph, I’ll do that, too, but I’ll have to ask you to pay for the shipping on that.

So then! There’s the housekeeping done (if only real housekeeping could get taken care of that easily).

My first week of being a “Real Author” with a “Real Published Novel” has passed, and I’ve learned some important things.

1) I don’t like self-publishing for the sake of self-publishing. By which I mean, I understand and appreciate what self-publishing allows me to do. I do not like messing about with figuring out formatting, hunting for a cover designer (even when I find a good one!), uploading the book to each seller, marketing myself, etc.

There’s nothing wrong with any of those things. I just get frustrated with the time doing them well takes away from actual writing. I don’t have a whole lot of time to devote to writing as it is (okay, and I do waste some of it just because I am SO TIRED these days and so much of my free time is spent on cat naps or comfort reading), and I get twitchy when I have to sacrifice my writing time to business time.

It is a business, and I get that. I’m not complaining. But I felt it was a rather important discovery for myself – that I do the self-publishing because it is the best choice for me right now, but I don’t have to love it. I love what it does for me. I’m not crazy about the process. And that’s okay.

One of the other things I’ve learned is that even being a published author doesn’t change a whole lot in the grand scheme of things. Dishes still had to get washed, laundry still had to be done, schoolwork taken care of, meals made, friends visited with, insomnia dealt with, life lived.

On the other hand, accomplishing a goal you’ve held since second grade is pretty damn awesome even if it isn’t earth-shattering, and I’m not gonna lie. Last Monday, I felt more like a rock star than I ever have and likely ever will again.

(Unless my fairy godmother suddenly gives me the ability to skate at the level I’ve always dreamed of, and I get to join Stars on Ice. And Scott Hamilton, Kurt Browning, Torvill & Dean, and Kristi Yamaguchi are all in it again as well. So yeah, not likely to happen.)

The only other matter of interest from this week is that I finally broke down and joined Instagram. Yippee! I’m trying not to go too crazy with it.

How was this first week of October for all of you, friends?

1920s, Books, fantasy, publishing, stories, writing

Magic Most Deadly Launch Day

This is it! Today is the day my firstborn book child officially enters the world. I am so pleased and proud to be able to announce …

Magic Most Deadly

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For Maia Whitney, life after the Great War is dull, monotonous, and drab. Nursing soldiers in the bloody fields of France hadn’t been easy, but it was better than life at home, standing in her sisters’ shadows. There seems no chance for a change until the night she witnesses a murder in the woods.

The last thing Magic Intelligence Agent Lennox Davies needs is this outspoken, independent lady crashing his investigation. Bad enough that a murder happened on his watch; much less that she had to see it happen. He works alone, and he does not have time for Miss Maia Whitney’s interference.

But as Maia’s own magical talent blossoms and danger thickens around the two with every step they take, before long Len and Maia must rely on each other in a fashion neither has ever done before. If they can’t learn to work together, England itself might topple. Even worse, if Maia doesn’t learn to control her magic soon, she might do more to destroy them even than their shadowy enemy.

Can they set aside their stubbornness and self-reliance in time to save themselves—and all England?

This book brought so much joy to my heart in the writing of it. I wrote it for fun, for me, without any initial thought of publication. I justified watching Downton Abbey as research for it, and snorted in amusement to myself at some of the parallels between the Crawley sisters and my own Whitney sisters, and knew that, if ever it did get published, I would hear claims that I was copying Downton.

I read and re-read all of Agatha Christie’s books set in the ’20s, and took great glee in turning the Tommy-and-Tuppence relationship on its head with Maia and Len – where she was the methodical, practical one, and he was the one given to impulse and flashes of insight.

I realized partway through that not only was I thoroughly enjoying writing this, it was shaping up to be the best thing I’d ever written, and the most publishable.

I wrote two short stories set in the same world, but with different characters and in different eras, and in doing so ended up solidifying the way the magic works and the rules surrounding its use.

I wrote, and re-wrote, and sent to beta readers and editors and friends, and re-wrote some more, and polished it up again, found an amazing cover designer and formatter, and now, at last, about four years from starting this project –

Here it is.

Magic Most Deadly is available right now in ebook form through Amazon and Smashwords. Nook and iTunes should be available by the end of the week (I’ll post live links as they become available). The paperback is available through Createspace right now, and through Amazon by the end of the week as well (ditto with that link).

The Goodreads giveaway for a paperback copy is still running, and will be open until October 10.

A thousand thanks to everyone who has encouraged, helped, watched, and cheered me on along the way. I couldn’t have done it without any of you.

Special thanks especially to A.M. Weir, Angelika O, TJ Loveless, Laura R, Kathryn Jonell, Amanda McCrina, and MOST especially to Carl, Joy & Grace, Mom & Dad, and Lis.

1920s, goals, publishing, writing

Bits and Pieces

-I’m working hard to get Magic Most Deadly up and running by the publication date. I’m trying to play it cool (not really), but inside I’m jumping up and down and squealing.

-To celebrate MMD’s launch, I’m running a giveaway on Goodreads. Check it out and enter for a chance to win a paperback copy (US and Canada only, sorry).

-When I planned the date for MMD’s cover reveal, I missed the fact that it was happening the same day as Alex Cavanaugh’s book launch for CassaStorm, the third and final book in his Cassa trilogy. Poor timing on my part! So now I’m a week late, but still – go check it out. Alex is a great guy, and a huge support and encouragement to writers and bloggers online. Wishing you great things with this book, Alex!

-After finishing everything with MMD, I suffered from writer’s ennui for a while. Do any of you experience that? Just kind of drifting about, feeling empty, even if you have another project you’re in the middle of or about to start? It takes a while to dissipate, but the fog is clearing now, and I think I’m ready to dive back into Wings of Song.

-After that (or during, depending on how the muse strikes), I have the next Maia and Len book to write. I’m already excited about that.

-One thing that possibly helped shoo away my ennui was all the fun we had last week. My dad was visiting, and we went to the aquarium, ocean, library, playground, and just generally had a great time. Definitely help fill my creative well.

Ocean
Ocean

-Happy Monday, all! Next Monday will (providing all goes well) be the announcement of Magic Most Deadly’s launch!

1920s, fantasy, publishing, writing

Magic Most Deadly Cover Reveal

This cover.

You guys.

I thought it was going to kill me. The delays. The parting of ways with my first cover designer. My blithe assurance to her that I had it all under control. The near panic as I realized I, in fact, had nothing under control. The frantic search for a new designer who would meet my budget and give me what I desired. The – literally – sleepless nights as my mind wouldn’t stop worrying the matter, like a dog with a bone.

(It probably didn’t help that all this was taking place right before, during, and after our move.)

Then, in a serendipitous bit of Google searching, I came across Fly Casual. I loved the name first, quite honestly (Star Wars FTW!), even before I saw samples of Amanda’s work or realized that her cover and formatting package fit my budget exactly.

Amanda is a writer herself, as well as graphic designer, and a fan of many of the same mystery novels I love, and which inspired Magic Most Deadly. We hit it off right away. The very first concept design she sent was amazing, and we were off and running from there.

Less than a week from our initial contact, she was emailing me the final product. And it all was more perfect than I ever dared to hope.

mmd_small_res_final

For Maia Whitney, life after the Great War is dull, monotonous, and drab. Nursing soldiers in the bloody fields of France hadn’t been easy, but it was better than life at home, standing in her sisters’ shadows. There seems no chance for a change until the night she witnesses a murder in the woods.

The last thing Magic Intelligence Agent Lennox Davies needs is this outspoken, independent lady crashing his investigation. Bad enough that a murder happened on his watch; much less that she had to see it happen. He works alone, and he does not have time for Miss Maia Whitney’s interference.

But as Maia’s own magical talent blossoms and danger thickens around the two with every step they take, before long Len and Maia must rely on each other in a fashion neither has ever done before. If they can’t learn to work together, England itself might topple. Even worse, if Maia doesn’t learn to control her magic soon, she might do more to destroy them even than their shadowy enemy.

Can they set aside their stubbornness and self-reliance in time to save themselves—and all England?

Magic Most Deadly, by E.L. Bates, coming out September 30, 2013.

Hurrah!

If anyone is looking for a cover designer and/or interior formatter, I highly recommend Amanda of Fly Casual. She understood almost instinctively what I wanted, listened to all my nit-picky suggestions with infinite patience, and produced an amazing, professional, meticulously crafted finished product even sooner than her projected finish time. All around, working with her was just a wonderful experience!

God, Life Talk, stories

You Matter

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day. TWLOHA is doing a campaign this year titled “You Cannot Be Replaced.”

I’m not a big fan of open messages in general. Especially ones that are meant to be encouraging. Because most often, they end up depressing me MORE, and making me feel even more faceless and anonymous.

“Hey you,” on Twitter, @ nobody. “Yes, you. You are loved.”

Really? How do you know? You don’t even know who I am! If you really wanted to make me feel loved, take the time to find out my name and what I’m struggling with.

OK, yes. I have issues.

But I love this campaign. Because every single person, whether you or I or anyone else knows them or not, is unique and CANNOT BE REPLACED. This message? This one does give me hope, even if it is anonymous.

I believe in a Creator who purposely and carefully forms each and every human being on this earth. He knows every one of us by name. He has a story for each of us. He cares for each one of us. He DIED for each one of us. Not a faceless mass of humanity, but each individual person, those long dead and those not yet born included. He loves us.

He loves you.

He loves me.

And that makes each one of us precious and irreplaceable.

I know this, but I don’t believe it every day. I struggle a lot, actually, with feeling secondary, merely good for filling others’ needs, and could easily be replaced by a robot, because me as Louise, my individual personality and character and self-ness, doesn’t matter.

But that’s a lie.

God delights in me as a person.

And no matter what else, even if you strip everything else I do and am away, I have value because of that. Because he made me and he loves me. Because of him, I can stand tall and value myself.

I cannot be replaced.

And neither can you.

None of us can be.

We all matter.

1920s, characters, fantasy, goals, heroes, heroines, publishing, world-building, writing

Character Sketches

By which title I mean, real sketches of my characters. Not written sketches of their personalities, etc.  Art. Done by me. Not an artist.

I was trying to put together a concept sketch for a potential cover designer last week, and got enormously fed up at my inability to draw anything better than stick figures. I used to take art lessons, said I, and the pencil drawing I did of a horse has hung in my parents’ house for years and nobody ever guessed it was drawn by a kid, and the bird in pastels I did for Grandma is now hanging in my kitchen, and looks lovely, so why do my fingers no longer obey my brain when it comes to drawing?

Enough is enough, said I. If I’m going to be teaching art to my children, I better start believing and practicing some of the precepts.

A few hours later, I had come up with two reasonable sketches – one of Maia, and one of Len.

They aren’t perfect. If I were to draw them again, and again, and again, I know I could get them better.

But you know what? I like them just the way they are. And I think they convey a lot of strength and personality that wouldn’t necessarily show in a more polished and perfected piece.

So here, without further ado, is the first public appearance of Miss Maia Whitney and Mr Lennox Davies, co-protagonists of Magic Most Deadly:

Maia Whitney
Maia Whitney
Lennox Davies
Lennox Davies

After finishing Len’s portrait, I was bitten by the art bug, and now every time I sit down for a few moments you can find me picking up a pencil and paper and working away on noses, eyes, and ears. I drew a couple fairies for my daughters to play with, and even got bold and attempted a unicorn (er … definitely need work in the direction. Proportions were WAY off).

After telling myself for years that “I wish I could draw, but I’m just not an artist,” it’s fun to prove myself wrong. Anyone can become an artist, especially if you’re willing to accept that your first attempts will not be great.

Who knows, maybe by the time I’m ready to publish the next Maia and Len book, I’ll have even better portraits of them ready to go!

And speaking of publishing, and speaking of art …

I found a cover designer! Amanda of Fly Casual, and she did the most amazing job, I am so blown away. I can’t wait to share the cover with all of you. So that’s what I’m going to do. NEXT WEEK. Monday the 16th.

If anyone wants to help me share the cover, let me know in the comments and I will email you the details. In the meantime, go check out Fly Casual! Amanda is a wonderful graphic designer, and a joy to work with.